On The Radio
by sweet-as-salt
Summary: 'One minute, he was relaxing on the sofa, listening to the radio...' Mako recieves a surprise on a lazy day...


Mako was surprised by the sudden weight. One minute, he was relaxing on the sofa, listening to the radio, and the next he was being squashed by some sort of huffing, groaning lump. Opening his eyes, expecting an overweight Pabu, he was further surprised to see Korra on his lap, glaring at the ceiling, shifting slightly to get comfortable.

"Am I invisible, or did I look comfier than the couch?" He finally asked, and Korra turned to face him, pouting.

"As much as I would like to say the former, it's the latter; you're warmer too." She muttered, burrowing herself into Mako's body, her face nestled in his scarf. He sighed, shaking his head, but let her stay in his lap, letting his head fall back again on the back of the sofa, listening once again to the voices emanating from the tiny box by his head. "What are you even doing here? You never sit still and just relax, not that I'm complaining." Korra said, her voice muffled from Mako's scarf, slurred slightly with tiredness. Mako smiled slightly at her tone, and the way her hands had somehow managed to move so that they now gripped his shirt.

"I'm listening to this story-series, it's pretty interesting; now, shush, I want to finally hear the end." He murmured, and Korra just grunted, mumbling something into his scarf that Mako decided he'd rather not hear. The smiled remained on his face, and as he listened, he became aware that Korra's breathing had slowed, and that she'd actually fallen asleep; he quickly placed his arms around her, resting his hands lightly on her hips, making sure she wouldn't fall off his lap: as much as Korra would be embarrassed that they ended up like this, she'd more mad if he let her fall to the ground.

"_He watched as she tried to get away, and smirked as his grip tightened, as her breath quickened. He looked into her eyes, watching them open wide and stare directly into his, challenging him to do what he wanted..._" Mako wanted to groan at the obvious foreshadowing and sappy romance, but he was reluctant to wake the peacefully sleeping Avatar; Tenzin and the Championships were training her so hard she needed all the rest she could get. He didn't really like the series, about some nameless characters who were constantly dancing around their feelings while facing almost unbelievable dangers, but Mako's constant drive to see something through had forced him to continue listening to the rubbish.

He was glad for the time to relax though; usually alone, he enjoyed the peace of listening to the story, imagine it unfolding. In some way, the anonymous nature of the characters was fun, as Mako could imagine anyone he wanted in those situations, and letting his imagination run wild was something he didn't do often. Looking down at the curly mass of light brown hair resting on his chest, he knew why. All his imagination could come with up with recently was Korra, and while some of it was fun and enjoyable, a lot of it was the complete opposite, and he hated imagining all the things Amon could do to his best friend.

"_Finally, it was over. She'd done it; brought peace to the land, conquered the evil, and realised her heart's longing. Looking over at him, she smiled softly, her hand entwined with his. She blushed as he wrapped his red scarf around her neck, as he placed a light kiss on her forehead. The Avatar pulled her Firebender off into the sunset, content to finally let the world live in peace._"

WHAT?!

Mako choked on his shock, lurching forward, yelling slightly. He forgot about his companion, and Korra squeaked in surprise at her bed suddenly rocking forward, being caught by Mako's arms at her waist. Happy to not have fallen, she glared sleepily at Mako as he blushed, still coughing slightly.

"What was that about? I was finally getting some sleep!" She grumbled, and Mako knew that if she had been just a tiny bit more alert, she would've been yelling, and winced accordingly, trying to forget all that he'd heard over the past few weeks. He apologised, and shifted back, quickly flicking the radio to another channel, allowing soft flowing melodies to play throughout the apartment. Korra seemed to accept his apology as she snuggled back into his chest, already halfway asleep again.

He tightened his grip on her waist, letting one hand drift up her back, drawing her closer to him. His imagination was drifting back to parts of the story, where the girl, Korra, was tortured; it was bad enough imagining it himself, but someone else actually giving him the words and images was worse. He wished, hoped and prayed that it never happened; holding her closer made it seem like it never would, he could protect her forever, despite the fact that Korra would never let him. He buried his face in her hair, glad that Meelo had decided earlier in the week to drop her hair bands in a tree while Korra was asleep.

Did he really feel like that towards Korra, how the tale had described him and her? Did he really want to always take the blow meant for her; did he really never want to leave her side? He thought about it, all that had happened to them, what was going to happen, what was happening, and decided that, in fact, yes, he did feel that way. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Korra's head, feeling her shift slightly, to move even closer to him. He wondered what the writer's reaction would be if they found out that their innocent little scrawling had led to this; he and Korra, lying, now, together on the sofa, warmed by each other. He hoped it was as good as he felt right now.


End file.
